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Science Adventure Stories, v. 1, issue 2, October 1938
Page 23
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23. Return to the Future ********************************************************* do understand! You are Myron Y-22378, launched from the date of December 31st, 2999, into the fourth dimensional lane called Time!" (The story continues in detail): Myron was astounded. He stared at her in puzzled silence for several minutes until he thought to ask: "How can you know my name and of events in a past that is part of these ruins around us?" And the answer she gave in reply even more amazed him with its subtle implication of things that were beyond his immediate comprehension. "Because of the ancient records," was her retort. "What records?" "The plates from which my mother taught me," replied the girl, starting intently into her questioner's puzzled countenance. "Before she died. . . " "When did she die?" Myron asked. "Long years ago." "Whom do you live with?" "No one. There is no one else." "I don't understand!" Myron seated himself upon a ledge of weathered granite so that he faced her. "All are gone. . . Everyone." A note of sadness had crept into her voice and now her heard drooped sadly and the ghost of a sigh, barely audible, escaped her. Myron was mystified. "Just what do you mean by that?" he asked.
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23. Return to the Future ********************************************************* do understand! You are Myron Y-22378, launched from the date of December 31st, 2999, into the fourth dimensional lane called Time!" (The story continues in detail): Myron was astounded. He stared at her in puzzled silence for several minutes until he thought to ask: "How can you know my name and of events in a past that is part of these ruins around us?" And the answer she gave in reply even more amazed him with its subtle implication of things that were beyond his immediate comprehension. "Because of the ancient records," was her retort. "What records?" "The plates from which my mother taught me," replied the girl, starting intently into her questioner's puzzled countenance. "Before she died. . . " "When did she die?" Myron asked. "Long years ago." "Whom do you live with?" "No one. There is no one else." "I don't understand!" Myron seated himself upon a ledge of weathered granite so that he faced her. "All are gone. . . Everyone." A note of sadness had crept into her voice and now her heard drooped sadly and the ghost of a sigh, barely audible, escaped her. Myron was mystified. "Just what do you mean by that?" he asked.
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